Like That
by Prinzessin
Summary: A series of fics featuring Derek Morgan.
1. A Care Bear Amidst Paperwork

b This is the first in a series of oneshot fics for various communities over at LiveJournal. Just thought I'd post them here too... /b 

Title: A Care Bear Amidst Paperwork

Summary: Hotch watches his team on Paperwork Day. Set after 2x06 (no spoilers though)

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine. Nor do I own the Band-Aid brand (though I do lay claim to a few boxes of Band-Aids) or the Care Bears.

Spoilers: none.  
---

It was Paperwork Day at the BAU, something every agent learned to appreciate, no matter how tedious the paperwork was. Paperwork meant that there were no serial killers or missing kids that needed their immediate attention, nor any bloody crime scenes or psychotic unsubs. Aaron Hotchner stood up from his chair, walked around his desk and exited his office. He didn't go far, only to the railing just across from his office door, where he leaned on it and looked at his teammates.

Reid was busy at work while Morgan seemed lost in thought, and JJ was nowhere to be seen. Hotch looked over to see Gideon purposefully heading toward Reid and Morgan. Hotch frowned, wondering what Gideon was doing, so Hotch decided to watch and find out for himself.

Morgan drew Hotch's attention when his posture suddenly changed. Morgan went from slouched and lost in thought to straight up and hyper-aware in a second. Hotch smiled to himself, knowing that Morgan was aware of Gideon's approach, even when Gideon was coming up on him from behind. Reid noticed it as well, looking up from his paperwork and glancing first at Morgan, then at an approaching Gideon.

Before Gideon could open his mouth to greet the two younger agents, they heard a female screech from nearby. After a flurry of unintelligible mumbling, the lone female of their team came barging in, shaking her left hand vigorously.

"You know what I hate about all this paperwork?" she asked before putting a fingertip in her mouth.

"Writing everything in triplicate…" Morgan began, ending with a grin.

She shook her head and moved her finger just enough to answer, "No, I hate getting papercuts. It never fails…"

"You should clean that," Reid noted, getting only a glance from JJ. "Do you know how many…"

"Reid, she's a big girl and she probably knows how to take care of a papercut," Morgan interrupted, himself not wanting to know how Reid was going to finish that statement.

And he was rewarded with an enthusiastic nodding of the head from JJ, who used her free hand to point to Morgan.

But Morgan wasn't done yet, "But that doesn't mean she couldn't use a little practical help. After all, she'll only have one free hand."

JJ rolled her eyes and feigned a groan, and that was enough keep Morgan from getting too smug. But she nodded again, and led the way to the breakroom, where the first-aid kit was kept.

Once JJ and Morgan had disappeared, Gideon took the chair from what used to be Elle's desk and rolled it so he was sitting near Reid. The two of them were speaking in hushed tones, so Hotch had no idea what they were talking about. But soon, laughter caught his attention, and he wondered what JJ was laughing at. He cocked his head to the side in the direction of the sound, and soon heard Morgan's voice as well.

Hotch noticed that both Reid and Gideon had heard the incoming company as well, both looking in the direction of the laughter. They only needed to wait a few more seconds, as both JJ and Morgan showed up with grins on their faces.

"Mind sharing with the class?" Reid asked, looking between JJ and Morgan.

"Oh, it's nothing," JJ answered with a shrug, then looked at Morgan who didn't move.

"How's your finger?" Reid asked.

Hotch couldn't help but smile a little when JJ held her finger up, wiggled it and said, "It's fine…nothing a little antibiotic gel and a Band-Aid couldn't fix."

"Then there's the matter of the Band-Aid…" Morgan grinned, winking at JJ.

"It is brightly colored," Gideon piped in, leaning back in his chair and watching the other three interact with each other.

"She was complaining how the regular ones were…boring," Morgan answered. "And I knew Garcia had a few interesting ones, so I ran down and got one from her. It was Garcia's idea, I was just the messenger."

"So, what is on the Band-Aid?" Reid asked, not knowing that was also Hotch's question as well.

"Cheer Bear!" Morgan answered, getting swatted on the arm by JJ.

"Cheer Bear?" both Reid and Gideon repeated.

"Cheer Bear," Morgan affirmed. "According to Garcia, she's happy and kind and spreads cheer wherever she goes. And that does sound like our JJ…"

By then, JJ had her arms crossed over her chest, her cheeks more than just a little pink. She was trying not to glare at Morgan, as that would only encourage him.

Hotch stood up and took a step back from the railing. Just as he was about to turn and head back into his office, he noticed Gideon looking up at him. They exchanged slight nods, and then Hotch went back into his office. And he was hoping that this was only the beginning to a string of Paperwork Days in their immediate future.

FIN


	2. Notes

Title: Notes

Summary: Morgan finds a note as he finishes his laundry.

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine.

Spoilers: minor for 1x05 "Broken Mirror"

A/N: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

---

Standing in the laundry room to his condo complex, Derek Morgan had made sure that the pockets were empty before putting his clothes into the wash. But as he emptied the dryer, folding and matching as he went along, he realized that he hadn't been quite as thorough as he'd thought.

In the bottom of the dryer was a piece of scrap paper. He took it out and studied it for a moment. The paper had, "_Glad you're ok_" scribbled on it. The memory of the note made him smile, since it'd been attached to a chocolate chip cookie and a smiley face sticker that he knew came from Garcia. He stuck the note into his pocket, then carried his laundry back to his condo. Once his laundry was away, Morgan took the note back out and studied it again. After a little while, he made a mental note to pick up something for who he considered to be one of the most special women in his world…Penelope Garcia.

FIN


	3. Monsters

Title: Monsters

Summary: Monsters come both during the day and at night. The only difference is how they're handled.

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine.

Spoilers: none.

A/N: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Thank you for the lovely reviews! I may actually try my hand at Morgan/Garcia...  
---

It was an open secret in the BAU that the horrors they saw during the day carried over into the night. And it came as no surprise to Derek Morgan that he woke from a nightmare, remembering none of the details except for what he felt. Those feelings he remembered all too vividly. So as he lied in his bed, the sheets still twisted around his legs, his chest only beginning to settle back into its normal rhythm, he stared at the ceiling. A small voice in the back of his mind chided him for his reaction, saying he wasn't a child afraid of the dark anymore. He handled the monsters during the day, he should be able to handle them at night as well.

But he was alone at night. Contrary to what most of the office thought (though his teammates knew him better), he spent most nights alone when he was home. He could handle the day monsters with the help of his team, but he was on his own at night. Another small voice reminded him that his team would understand, that they were always there for him no matter the time or trouble, but Morgan didn't even glance at his phone. It wasn't an option.

He glanced from the ceiling to the bedside clock, and the numbers screamed at him that he should go back to sleep. He still had more than three hours before he had to get up and get ready for another day. Linking his fingers behind his head, he continued to stare through the darkness, as if the ceiling wasn't even there. After realizing he wasn't going back to sleep, the feelings of the nightmare were still much too strong, he got out of bed and ready for a run.

He knew that his teammates, his friends, would know something was off, despite the practiced face he'd put forward. They'd ask, he'd respond that he was fine, they'd nod slightly and let him get away with the lie. Gideon would inevitably corner him, he'd inevitably tell his tale and the day would go on like any other. And he'd get a phone call the following night, letting him know that he wasn't as alone as he thought.

FIN


	4. Calling Out

Title: Calling Out

Summary: He knows who to call.

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine.

Spoilers: "Lessons Learned"  
---

While Hotch had long since gone home to be with his family, Morgan was finally able to go back to his apartment, greeted only by an empty voicemail box and his dog, Clooney. Once the dog was cared for, Morgan grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and sat on the sofa and stared out the window into the black night sky.

He was tired, as it'd been a long day and a long case. Plus having to sit through hours of questions since he'd been forced to kill took a lot out of him. He knew that the shooting was justified, but he also knew that it had to be proven before he'd be allowed to return to field duty. And he wasn't looking forward to the forced day off followed by desk duty.

Taking a sip from the bottle, he took a few controlled deep breaths, trying to ease his anxiety and tumultuous emotions that were threatening to break down the walls he'd long since built. And he knew there was no point to even attempt sleep, since all of his nightmares were already flashing before his eyes instead of the sparkling stars in the dark sky.

Putting the beer down, he stood up and crossed the room, picking his cell phone up from the counter. Flipping it open, he speed-dialed someone he knew he could count on.

"Garcia," came the familiar voice, to which Derek didn't say anything at first. "Derek? You okay?"

"No I'm not, honey…I'm not…"

"Talk to me, sugar," she said sweetly, and so he did, showing Garcia the side of himself that the others only glimpsed.


	5. Stubborn

Title: Stubborn

Summary: Morgan just had to prove he's got a hard head.

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine.

Spoilers: very brief mention of 1x05 "Broken Mirror"

A/N: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. I did get a little medical help from since my limited VT/CT medical training was 8-10 years ago.  
---

He hadn't seen it coming. Derek Morgan stepped out of the professor's door into the hallway, then turned to head to the stairs that would lead him to the building's exit where Reid was waiting for him. So when he passed the water fountain and the bulletin board, he didn't have a chance to react before he felt…something…hit the back of his head. He crumpled to the floor, his eyes refusing to focus on the body running away from him. He slowly got to his feet, but regretted doing so the second his was upright.

The world surrounding him spun so violently that he was forced to his knees, which wasn't actually a bad thing as his stomach lurched at the same time. And then there was the cell phone down the hall that just kept ringing…

He managed to get to the wall, where he leaned against it with his head between his knees and his eyes squeezed shut. He vaguely thought that he should call Reid, but dismissed it almost immediately as that meant that he'd have to move.

"Morgan?" he heard a familiar voice ask, though he couldn't immediately place it. "Morgan?"

Morgan opened his eyes and raised his head just enough to see over his knees. And that's when he was met by the concerned gaze of…someone he knew who's name he suddenly couldn't remember.

He went to shake his head, and immediately got rewarded by literally seeing stars in front of his eyes. So he just lowered his head back down and shut his eyes until things got a little better. He heard the familiar voice again, though he couldn't make out the words and at the time he didn't really care. He just wanted to keep hearing that voice.

After hearing his name again, Morgan looked up and finally remembered the name of the person kneeling in front of him.

"Reid?" he croaked out softly.

"I'd ask if you're okay, but you're obviously not. What happened?"

"Got hit in the back of head. No idea who did it, though."

"I only saw one person come out of this building through the front since you've been in here," Reid replied. "We should get you checked out."

"Yeah," Morgan sighed, more in displeasure of having to move than the actual doctor's visit.

Reid stood first and took a step back, watching as Morgan slowly lifted himself off the floor using the wall as a brace. Morgan took a step away from the wall, but immediately went back to it when his feet faltered beneath him. It was a slow walk down the hall, and even slower down the stairs. Once outside of the building, Reid had no other choice than to help a still-unsteady Morgan to the car, where the injured man sat heavily in the car with his head against the headrest and his eyes closed.

"The nearest hospital is only a few miles from here," Reid noted, getting only a slight wave in response.

Reid tried to make the drive to the hospital as fast and comfortable for Morgan as possible. Once there, Reid made sure Morgan got into the emergency room without trouble, where Morgan was quickly taken into an exam room once Reid identified them both as federal agents. Morgan was placed on a bed while Reid stayed by the door, watching everything intently. And all Reid could do was watch as a doctor and nurse hovered around Morgan while they did their tests.

Once finished, the nurse left the room while the doctor addressed both Reid and Derek.

"We're giving him something to make him more comfortable," the doctor said, more to an alert Reid than to a barely attentive Morgan, "but I want to keep him here for a few hours. He can sleep, actually, I want him to sleep. But we'll be waking him up periodically to check him over."

"He's going to be alright, isn't he?" Reid asked, and even Morgan couldn't miss the concern in Reid's voice.

"He does have a concussion, though I don't see anything particularly worrisome. He'll stay here so we can keep an eye on him, but he'll still need someone to keep an eye on him after he's discharged."

Reid nodded, then replied, "That won't be a problem. We're here with our team on a case…"

"A case that he's off of," the doctor interjected, to which Morgan sighed.

"Of course," Reid agreed.

The doctor then excused himself, leaving Reid and Morgan alone. Reid went to the chair next to the bed and sat, eyeing Morgan again.

"You up to telling me what happened?" Reid asked, leaning forward a little with his elbows on his knees.

"Talked to the professor and got nothing new. I was walking down the hall when I got hit. Couldn't see who, vision was blurry. I think I noticed a pink shirt though."

Reid nodded, "I think I saw the same person coming out of the building. I should call Hotch and let him know what happened."

"You can take off…"

"I think I better stay. Anyway, you'll need a ride back to the hotel. I'm just going to find a payphone and call Hotch. I'll be right back."

Morgan gave him a weak thumbs-up as a reply, then as soon as he heard the door open, and then close behind Reid, he closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy sleep. It wasn't much later when he felt a hand on his, and he cracked his eyes open to see Hotch in the chair that Reid had vacated.

"Hotch?" Morgan asked, wincing at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," Hotch answered softly. "How do you feel?"

"Got a killer headache," Morgan joked. "Where's Reid?"

"Gideon took him back to the station. He got a little shaken up by what happened," Hotch answered.

Morgan mulled over that for a second before replying. "He okay?"

Hotch nodded. "He will be. Try to stay awake for a few minutes, okay? A nurse came in a little while ago and said that they'd wake you."

"How long was I out for?"

"Almost an hour," Hotch answered, then shifted in his seat. "When you're released, I'll take you back to the hotel where you're staying until we head back to Quantico, and someone will be staying with you."

"I'm sorry, Hotch. I never saw it coming…"

"Don't worry about it," Hotch interrupted.

"I'm not sure what's worse, this or the Taser."

Hotch smiled slightly, then said, "It's all the same to me. And don't think I haven't noticed that you're almost always the one who gets hurt."

And then the door opened, and Morgan's doctor came strolling in with a nurse in tow. Hotch stood up, moving the chair out of the doctor's way. The doctor and nurse were only in there for a few minutes, and the doctor looked especially pleased to hear that Morgan had woken on his own, was able to stay awake and have a coherent conversation.

"All in all, things are looking good, Agent Morgan. Keep this up and you'll be in a real bed soon."

"Good," Morgan sighed. "No offense, doc, but this bed definitely wasn't designed for comfort."

"Encourages short-term stays," the doctor replied. "I'll be back in an hour. If everything checks out, I'll let you out of here."

The doctor and nurse left, and Hotch put his chair back next to Morgan's bed and sat down. "You get some rest…"

"I should've been aware…should've seen it coming…"

"There was no reason for you to have thought that the unsub would've been in the building. Don't do this to yourself."

"I screwed up, Hotch. I'm sorry…" Morgan said, and with that, he drifted off to sleep.

The next Morgan knew, someone was tapping the back of his hand and saying his name over and over again. He cracked his eyes open to see the doctor looking down at him, and over the doctor's shoulder stood Hotch, and Morgan noticed that he was looking concerned.

"I'm up…awake, anyway," Morgan muttered, trying not to aggravate his thundering headache.

"Took a little while there," the doctor replied. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got clocked in the head with a brick."

"Well, everything appears to be normal, so I'm releasing you…with a few conditions, of course," the doctor said.

"Of course," Morgan repeated.

"And they are?" Hotch asked.

"He needs rest and a lot of it. He can take ibuprofen or acetaminophen as prescribed on the bottle, no prescription necessary for that. No alcohol, no work…absolutely nothing that can compound a head injury. And someone needs to stay with him for the next few days to look for delayed signs of a more serious problem. Now, that isn't likely, but it is possible."

"Already planned for that. We've got acetaminophen in his hotel room, and we've already worked out who's keeping him company when."

"Great…" Morgan muttered. "I haven't had a babysitter since I was ten."

"Morgan," Hotch warned, but Morgan didn't move to acknowledge it.

"Continuing my streak of concussion patients insisting they don't need babysitters, huh?" the doctor grinned to Morgan, who only glared in return. "I'll get your discharge papers started, it shouldn't be long."

"Thank you, doctor," Hotch said as the doctor left the room.

Taking his seat once again, Hotch gave Morgan another once-over. Morgan had closed his eyes, draping the arm without the IV over his eyes, and Hotch knew it was due to a headache.

"Can I get you anything?" Hotch asked when Morgan didn't move.

"I'll be fine once I can get into a real bed and shut the lights," Morgan groaned.

"Soon enough," Hotch replied. "And in case I forget to tell you at the hotel, you better call Garcia."

"I'll try to remember, but if I don't, I claim concussion as my defense."

A slight laugh escaped from Hotch, who was finally beginning to feel as if Morgan might really be alright. Morgan's doctor soon returned, and after the discharge papers were signed and final instructions given, Morgan was released. It was a quiet ride back to the hotel, where Hotch escorted Morgan to his room. After a few minutes in the bathroom, Morgan went straight to bed where Hotch handed him two white pills and a glass of water. Before long, Morgan was sound asleep, leaving Hotch to get an update from Gideon and giving one of his own.

Although he didn't have to wake Morgan every hour, Hotch had to resist the urge to do just that. He knew Morgan needed his sleep, but he also needed to see for himself that Morgan was fine. Hotch wouldn't leave the room though, just so he was sure he didn't miss anything. The only time he allowed himself to leave was just to go into his room and grab some file folders so he'd have something to do.

He was concentrating on one file when he heard the sounds of fabric rustling. He peered up to see Morgan propped up on his elbows, looking around the room sleepily.

"You okay?" Hotch asked, putting the file aside.

"Yeah," Morgan mumbled. "Forgot where I was for a minute. How's everything?"

"Quiet. Sounds like the team's starting to wrap everything up. We'll probably be taking off for home tomorrow."

"Sounds good. I can convalesce in my own bed."

Hotch smiled a little and said, "Gideon added that Reid's been spouting off concussion facts…a nervous habit, I guess."

"What's he got to be nervous about?"

Hotch shrugged, "Maybe he blames himself for what happened to you."

"No way," Morgan stated. "I told him to stay in the car since I just had a couple questions for the professor. There was no way for him to know anything was going to happen."

"I'm just guessing," Hotch replied, his hands up.

"I'll have to talk to him when he gets back…" Morgan said, mumbling a little as he laid back down.

"Speaking of talking…I'm reminding you to call Garcia."

"When I wake up again," Morgan replied just before he fell asleep.

Hotch returned to his files as Morgan slept. The team arrived a few hours later, and the others checked in on Morgan quietly since he was still asleep. He woke a little while later to find Hotch gone and Reid asleep in a nearby chair. Morgan went to shake his head at the sight, but then remembered what happened when he did that earlier. So he opted to wad up a piece of hotel stationary and toss it at Reid.

"You're awake," Reid muttered as he straightened up.

"How'd everything go?"

"Good. We got the unsub, who was the one to hit you."

Derek shifted onto his side, to make talking to Reid a little less awkward.

"You okay?" Derek asked once he was settled.

"Me? I'm fine," Reid answered, a little too quickly.

And all Derek had to do was narrow his eyes.

"You don't blame me for what happened, do you?" Reid finally asked when Derek's scrutinizing gaze became overwhelming.

"No, I blame the unsub. And myself for not paying attention."

"I just…" Reid began, then he sighed. "I kept thinking, what if I'd gone with you."

"Doesn't matter. Reid, don't think like that. Look, I've got a hard head, you know that."

Reid nodded slowly, but said nothing. Derek noticed the slight change in Reid's demeanor, and comfortable with the fact that things were now fine between them, Derek went searching for his phone.

"What are you looking for?" Reid had to ask as Derek continued searching.

"My phone so I can call Garcia," Derek answered.

Reid, having remembered where Hotch said he'd put it, got up and went over to the bureau, taking Derek's phone from atop some clothes, handed it over, and sat back down. After settling back down into the pillows, Derek flipped the phone open and used the speed dial.

"Goddess of Modern Technology, how may you serve me?"

"Hey, babydoll, how's it going?"

"Morgan!" she exclaimed, making Derek wince. Then, after a second, she added softly, "Oh, I'm so sorry! You must have a huge headache."

"It's alright, Garcia. Just shows you care."

"I do care," she stated. "You okay? Or do I have some…"

"I'll be fine," Derek interrupted, then he looked over at Reid and smirked, "I have a hard head."

Reid nodded appreciatively, and Derek soon ended the call. It didn't take long for Derek to fall asleep again, and Reid just leaned back in the chair, knowing that before long, Derek would be back to normal, and then everything would be back to their version of normal.

FIN


	6. Alone

Title: Alone

Summary: Post "Profiler, Profiled" He never needed a friend like he did then. But will anyone be there for him?

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine.

Spoilers: 2x12 "Profiler, Profiled".

A/N: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

---

To be alone is to be different, to be different is to be alone.

-Suzanne Gordon

---

The days since his return to Virginia had been a lot of things for Derek Morgan. They were hard, painful, emotional and sleepless. Sure, he'd catch naps whenever his body forced the issue, but he never crawled into bed and willingly fell asleep. He just didn't trust his mind, he just knew he wouldn't be asleep long. So, in an effort to remain awake as long as possible, there was always strong coffee in the pot. And every cup was loaded with enough sugar even for Reid.

He'd long since lost count of how much coffee he'd had, and how many walks around the neighborhood he'd taken with Clooney…who, so far, was the only friend he felt he had. Derek had traveled back to Virginia alone after spending a few days with his mother and sisters while the others went back just as soon as they could. And he had yet to face the people he now coolly regarded as his teammates…no longer his friends. He wasn't sure if he could, especially now that they knew. On top of the perceived betrayal at their hands…

With both hands wrapped around the cool mug, he took a sip of the overly sweetened liquid. He felt his body growing weaker, and suddenly chugged the coffee down so he wouldn't fall asleep. He heard his phone ringing, and picked it up to see that it was Hotch calling him. He just tossed the phone aside, Hotch wasn't someone he wanted to talk to at the moment.

As he unwillingly dozed on the sofa, he thought of how he wished there was someone who he didn't feel betrayed him. He knew it wasn't logical, but then again, he also knew emotions never were. As the coffee and the surfacing memories fully woke him up, he got up to refill his mug, and opted to listen to the waiting message on his phone.

"Morgan…call me. We need to talk."

_Short and sweet_, Derek mused bitterly as he poured the sugar into his coffee. But he didn't really expect anything else from Hotch. So he went back to the sofa, turned the TV on and flipped through the channels until he finally turned it off. There was just nothing he wanted to see. Soon, the only sounds heard inside the apartment came from outside its walls. The only time that changed was when Clooney softly whined, placing his head on Derek's lap in his own attempt to make Derek feel better.

"I'm sorry, boy…I'm just not good company," Derek told Clooney, reaching down to scratch behind the dog's ears.

And so they sat, man and dog, as the night stretched on, leaving Derek to think about his past, and ponder his future.

FIN


	7. The Dark Side of a Secret

Title: The Dark Side of a Secret

Summary: Post"Profiler, Profiled". There are some wounds that time just can't heal.

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine.

Spoilers: 2x12 "Profiler, Profiled"

A/N: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

---

_Everyone is like a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody._

-Mark Twain

---

It'd been a few days since the ordeal in Chicago ended. Days since the truth he'd managed to keep hidden for years leaked out and was discovered. Days since he'd had any contact with the BAU team. He expected a day or two to himself, and then he expected everyone to either be calling him or to be pounding on his door. But the phone had remained silent and no one was stopping by.

He settled onto the sofa with a bottle of beer in one hand, the same that he'd been nursing for more than an hour. He'd look at the phone every so often, wondering why it remained silent. After a while, he stopped wondering. He stopped, because he knew. They didn't want anything to do with him now that he was different, that they knew his deepest secret. They knew what had been done to him, what he'd hidden for so many years. They were ashamed. He couldn't even blame them for that. He was thoroughly familiar with the shame.

It wasn't until the next night that there was a knocking on Derek's door. Beer in hand, he peered through the peephole to see a familiar, and not wholly unwelcome, face on the other side of his door. So Derek put the beer down, then unlocked the door.

"Gideon," Derek said, getting a nod in reply.

"May I come in?" Jason Gideon asked, and Derek stepped aside.

The two men settled down in the living room, Derek having gotten Gideon and himself glasses of water. It was an awkward silence, Gideon working on the words and Derek bracing himself for what was coming.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Gideon finally asked, setting his glass on the coffee table.

"Tell you? There isn't exactly an easy way to do that. I mean, 'Oh, by the way, I was molested by a father-figure when I was a teenager…'" Derek snapped, "I'm sure that would've gone over well."

"We all have something we'd rather the world not know," Gideon said. "We have buried secrets that we want to remain that way forever. But yours weren't buried, they were only lost and waiting to be discovered. It's up to you what happens now."

"It isn't, Gideon."

"How so?" Gideon questioned, his puzzled gaze following Derek as the other man got to his feet and went to a window.

"They know."

"Yes, they know."

Derek turned around, and Gideon couldn't miss the fire in the younger man's eyes. "Damn it, Gideon! They know, that changes things. They won't think of me the same, they won't look at me the same…they'll wonder if some cases I shouldn't be on because it might strike a nerve or they'll wonder if I can handle the job…"

"If anyone questions your ability to do our job, then they don't know you as well as they thought. Yes, Derek, things are different. But no one thinks any less of you. If anything…the fact that you've survived and excelled despite what happened…" Gideon said, trailing off when no more words were needed.

"I can't have them looking at me like a victim," Derek admitted quietly.

"They don't," Gideon assured him. "We talked on the way back. Believe me, Derek, no one thinks of you as a victim."

"It's weird…" Derek began, sitting back down. "I was so angry with you…with Hotch. I just didn't want you finding out…"

Gideon nodded, and let Derek continue. "But then I got angry with you because no one called…it seemed like no cared if I was alright…that I was alone. But then I figured you were all ashamed me of me, like I was of myself."

"We wanted to give you some space," Gideon replied. "I admit, I think we gave you a little too much. But we are in no way, shape or form ashamed. We're angry that you felt like you had to carry this alone for so long, and we're angry that this happened in the first place, but we aren't angry with you nor are we ashamed of you."

Derek nodded, then sipped his water. "It feels weird, knowing that other people know."

"That's not surprising," Gideon replied. "You aren't carrying that secret alone anymore."

"I don't think it's technically a secret anymore. After all, a secret by definition is something that no one else knows."

"You almost sound like Reid," Gideon noted with a small smile.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Derek answered with a smile of his own.

They chatted about happenings around the office for a while longer, until Gideon was comfortable leaving Derek alone for the night. Once Gideon was ready to head out, Derek stood to see him out.

"Eight AM sharp?" Gideon asked at the door.

"Eight AM sharp," Derek affirmed.

FIN


	8. Teardrop

Title: Teardrop

Summary: A single teardrop was only the beginning.

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: Since you don't see stuff like this on TV, suffice it to say that they aren't mine.

A/N: Not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

---

Penelope Garcia lied awake in bed, almost constantly reminding herself that Derek…that _her_ Derek, was alive and well. Seeing the fire and knowing it wasn't the gas main explosion that the reporter said it was sent something that was becoming too familiar through her- fear. For the second time in a row, Derek was put in the path of danger and had just barely escaped. Garcia rose from her bed, put her feet into her fuzzy purple slippers and left her bedroom, padding down the hallway until she reached the kitchen. There, she went about making herself a small ice cream sundae, complete with hot fudge and whipped cream.

She sat down at the small table that served as her dining room table and slowly ate the sundae as she remembered every excruciating detail. First was JJ's voice, asking if Annandale was where Morgan and Hotch were, then Garcia slowly looked over to the screen to her left and immediately noticed that the gas main explosion being reported on the news wasn't that at all. With a thundering heart and shaking hands, Garcia speed-dialed Derek, hoping with every breath that he and Hotch were alright. The pit of terror in her stomach grew with every unanswered ring. When Derek finally answered his phone, she was so relieved that she exhaled the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It wasn't until Derek said her name that she started functioning again. She knew if there was something really wrong with Derek, she'd know just by his voice. She did realize that there was something wrong with Derek…he was on a case where a fellow man died and there was nothing he could do. And so the case continued.

The sundae was gone but Garcia was no closer to feeling better or able to sleep, so she sat on her living room sofa and turned the TV on. She eyed the phone that was nearby, as if it were advising her on what to do next. After a few seconds of deliberation, she picked up the phone and dialed from memory.

A few rings later, she heard a groggy voice say, "Morgan."

"Hey Sleeping Beauty," she replied. "Sorry to wake you."

"Don't worry about it," Derek said, "What's going on, my beautiful princess?"

"Your Highness couldn't sleep."

"Tell me what's wrong."

Garcia took a deep breath, then told him her tale. She finished with, "I guess that's why I called. I had to hear your voice…"

"Anytime, baby, anytime. Do you want me to come over? I know I feel better when someone's with me."

"Derek…"

"I'll be there in ten," Derek said. "And don't go getting changed, either. You're always sexy to me."

"I'll be here," Garcia replied with a small smile.

Garcia opted to use the time to pick up the area and wash the few dirty dishes. Once those were dry and away, she only had a few minutes before Derek was knocking on her door. After making sure it was Derek, she opened the door to find that he didn't come empty handed. He dropped a duffel bag and a plastic bag on the floor by the door, then stood before Garcia.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said softly, smiling as she shuffled into his waiting arms.

She immediately nuzzled into his chest, her arms tight around his body. He held her tight, his strong arms around her shoulders. Kissing her hair, he whispered, "I'm here," over and over again as he held her. After a few seconds, Derek felt his shirt getting wet, and knew it was Garcia's tears. And so he held her tighter, murmuring whatever calming things came to mind as he gently rubbed her back. She soon stopped, but still wouldn't let go.

He led her into the bedroom, where she curled into him and he wrapped his strong arms around her. Listening to the constant that was his heartbeat, Garcia's eyes closed. And they remained for the remainder of the night.

FIN


End file.
